Mist. Mer. So, Michael, now get thee gone too.
Mich. Yes forsooth, mother, but I'll have my father's blessing first.
Mist. Mer. No, Michael, 'tis no matter for his blessing; thou hast my blessing. Begone; I'll fetch my money and jewels and follow thee: I'll stay no longer with him I warrant thee. Truly, Charles, I'll be gone too.
Old Mer. What? You will not.
Mist. Mer. Yes indeed will I.
Old Mer. "Heyho, farewell, Nan,
I'll never trust wench more again, if I can."
Mist. Mer. You shall not think (when all your own is gone) to spend that I have been scraping up for Michael.
Old Mer. Farewell, good wife, I expect it not, all I have to do in this world is to be merry; which I shall, if the ground be not taken from me; and if it be,